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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/30011460">Center Stage</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/weirdfishy/pseuds/weirdfishy'>weirdfishy</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>fishy's flash fiction friday fills ;) [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Original Work</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Cross-Posted on Tumblr, Other, Vying for Center Position, dance, fff91: main attraction, flash fiction Friday</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 21:15:49</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>928</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/30011460</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/weirdfishy/pseuds/weirdfishy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>excerpt: <i> "Mr. Manuel stood in the middle of the room, right up by the dance room’s wall-to-wall mirror, gazing over the clusters of students standing together in the back of the room trying to be the one to stand out. He was standing where center-stage would be, and he was choosing a dancer." </i></p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>fishy's flash fiction friday fills ;) [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2191836</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Center Stage</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I give gracious thanks to my friends that gave me the names to use!! love y'all 💕💕</p><p>enjoy~</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Mr. Manuel stood in the middle of the room, right up by the dance room’s wall-to-wall mirror, gazing over the clusters of students standing together in the back of the room trying to be the one to stand out. He was standing where center-stage would be, and he was choosing a dancer. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was the spot of spots for these students, first row and right in the middle. For the intermediate class, it meant a lot- it meant their teacher had been watching and found them worthy of it, and that they might be on their way to being eligible for the advanced class. The spot meant visibility; it meant your skills were spotlighted among a crowd- it meant that you were the main attraction.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sorinda was farther in the back, freckled hands gripped on the bar attached to the wall as he watched his friends vibrate with energy in front of him. Visibly, his lean was relaxed, nonchalant, and borderline apathetic. His face further gave the impression of disinterest, but his eyes practically burned the same orangey-red as his hair as he tried to track Mr. Manuel’s sweeping gaze.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He </span>
  <em>
    <span>wanted</span>
  </em>
  <span> that spot. He never once stood there during practice, preferring to take a strong position somewhere towards the back due to the fact that he was taller than most of the class. Sorinda was accommodating like that; he wanted everybody to be able to learn, even if a little at his expense. For all his passion for dancing, he couldn’t find it in himself to be too assertive in class, taking to the mindset that if his dancing was as good enough, it would shine from anywhere.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But he </span>
  <em>
    <span>ached</span>
  </em>
  <span> to present himself from the middle of the crowd. It might not be a spotlight, but it was a prime position for visibility in a class that mainly performed dances as a collective. Sorinda felt like he had a good shot at being called, but he knew that Nora, the senior who had everything to prove and did everything to make sure their teacher knew it, was also likely in the running, along with the quieter Yunin. They were polite, and always took Sorinda’s compliments seriously, sometimes even giving some back.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The instructor paused their sweep to reread over the notes he and their student aide had taken, the heels of his lightly raised shoes coming together in an attention-grabbing </span>
  <em>
    <span>snap</span>
  </em>
  <span>. The whole room went silent as he looked up, a slight raise to his lips.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>To Sorinda’s left, cross-legged on the floor and emanating a peaceful strength, Yunin tilted their head. He could practically see the confident gaze in their grey eyes open, having seen it each time they left the spotlight. Further up and closer to the little white tape ‘x’ was Nora, who had her arms crossed and stance centered, with a slight uptilt to her head. Sorinda let his curly hair hit the wall behind him, letting out a soft breath as his heart hammered in his chest. In front of him, Nicky and Rayln gripped each other’s hands, the rest of the class much the same; all were nervous and excited for the reveal, hope lining their forms. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The air was almost completely still, the class collectively holding their breaths as their student aide’s rhythmic tapping permeated the space.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mr. Manuel paid no mind to it all, and lowered the clipboard to behind his back. His gaze swept once, twice, thrice, over them. Sorinda’s stomach almost followed his heart in its creep up his throat. Briana, their aide, stopped her tapping, increasing the tension as time seemed to slow. Her smirking face was the last thing Sorinda saw before he let his eyes close.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A beat.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Another.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sorinda.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sorinda’s eyes snapped open, his arms snapping straight as he corrected his posture, his blue-and-brown eyes going wide as dinner plates. The entire class turned to face him except Yunin, and Sorinda’s eyes found Mr. Manuel’s. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His instructor’s gaze seemed to soften when they locked eyes, but then they slipped into impatience, an eyebrow arching. Sorinda’s chest was absolutely racing, dancing, and prancing across a sunny meadow of daffodils.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He pushed off the bar, his legs taking him toward the front, through Nicky and Rayln, past Yunin, and brushing shoulders with Nora. The rest of the world fell away, leaving Sorinda with the euphoric feeling of success and satisfaction. </span>
  <em>
    <span>He got it.</span>
  </em>
  <span> This was </span>
  <em>
    <span>his</span>
  </em>
  <span> spot. He </span>
  <em>
    <span>earned</span>
  </em>
  <span> this.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Once he stood, proudly, on the white ‘x’ in front of Mr. Manuel, he beamed, the fire in his eyes dulling to make room for a delighted twinkle. Mr. Manuel smiled at him, nodded, and then moved on, leaving Sorinda feeling like his world had tilted on its axis.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He’d have to work harder now, to </span>
  <em>
    <span>keep</span>
  </em>
  <span> his spot, and he wasn’t going to let anything get in his way.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>From her spot on the table, Briana gave him the thumbs up, and the corners of his mouth reached his ears with the smile he gave her. When he heard Yunin’s name get called from behind him, he was glad to see that they and Nicky would make up the window behind him. Sorinda sent an appraising grin at Nicky, who quietly clapped at him, her nose scrunching in excitement. Yunin nodded at him when he looked, their grey eyes still sparkling. He could tell it was approval, and his stomach swooped before turning around and sitting.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sorinda was going to perform in the center of that heavy red curtain. And he was </span>
  <em>
    <span>ready.</span>
  </em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>thanks for reading, I appreciate it a lot! 💚</p><p>
  <a href="https://weirdfishy.tumblr.com/post/645517470349836288/center-stage">like/reblog it on tumblr!! 💕</a>
</p></blockquote></div></div>
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